


You Can Run

by Anonymous



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Grace is great, M/M, No cult! Au, Season two spoilers!, Then there’s Reggie :/, au!, semi sober Klaus, set during the 1960s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In with Reginald’s trash he found something peculiar. A man whom he’s seen a scare many time before.Against his better judgment he takes in this train wreck of a man, not realizing the tug of fate on his hands.
Relationships: Grace Hargreeves/Reginald Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/Reginald Hargreeves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46
Collections: Anonymous





	You Can Run

It was a night draped with just enough moonlight that as he held Grace's hand, as she was so fond of doing, he could faintly see their palms intertwining one another. He liked to look at her smooth skin, untouched by calluses that the working women were accustomed to. In fact, her hands were noticeably smoother and softer than almost every hand he's ever shaken before. He could wander a guess that she lotions them every night but he'll never ask her such rude questions.

"Oh, Reggie you spoil me," Grace laughs and it was the type of laughter that he imagines a mother might have. The type full of jester yet wisdom; a kind noise. One that is a pleasure to listen to regardless of the time of day or night as it is now.

"Spoil? My dear Grace, that dinner was nothing off my back. I fear you've just been too often disappointed with your previous dates," he pauses, waiting for her reaction before continuing, scanning whether it was an okay subject to joke about in jest, as one often did. Grace smiles an already set movement in her facial features indicates she's about to roll her eyes. "I can't Imagine William was much of a courter."

Grace rolls her eyes, a smile on her lips, and a little bit of pink bleeds onto her cheeks. Embarrassment but at an acceptable amount he gages. "William was sweet," she whispers, almost as if it's a sour subject or if she's uncertain of how he'll react. An unnecessary move since he has no hard feelings towards any pervious companion of hers. "He was just a little...into himself."

He opens his mouth to reply but as it were to be, a newspaper stand caught his attention and he peers over at it and sees a strange image. A man who he imagines if not for the black and white ink would be wearing bright colors, holding his hands up to the camera with strange writings on his hands; possibly words but aren't readable. The title reads 'time traveler or just another druggie? Should we be worried?'

"Reggie?" 

Something about this man looks utterly...different but he shrugs it off. It seems like every day there was something new to be discovered but that's exactly why he likes earth so much.

"I can only imagine the torture you must have endured, dear. Listening to his cigar obsession."

/-/

He doesn't think about that man again. Doesn't even comprehend whether he's ever met the man before or if he has any real importance in his life. He just lets it be.

But as fate would have it, as he is walking out of his office one hot summer day. When even the grass was beginning to turn brown and the air left his hair just the tiniest bit frazzled. He hears the smallest crinkle, a noise not to even fret over, yet he feels almost compelled to investigate it.

Sometimes the red string of fate has its way of pulling. Of course, if he actually believed that, but as it was, he suspects, his own paranoia getting to him. That perhaps someone was catching onto his little schemes.

So he slowly took each step towards the side of the building. Waiting to see what kind of creature had found its way into his trash. He suspected many things from raccoons to burglars to even spies but he didn't expect this.

He didn't expect a drunk, dirty, and possibly insane man to be leaning against the dumpster mumbling to himself about something. Only to look toward him and pale, sobering up in what feels like an hour as the time drags on until finally, the man opens his mouth.

"Dad?" The man barely said through his hoarse, crackling voice. The talk of a drunk person, without a doubt.

"What do you think you're doing beside my business? I don't remember ever advertising as a charity."

The man stares for a great while before dissolving into laughter. "You're still a hardass...haha. If it makes you feel better this isn't your liquor." The man holds up a bottle of wine and slouches it around.

He had three options, he deducts at that moment. One, he let the man there for the police to find. Two, he kicks the man off his property himself. Three, he examines the subject more thoroughly using an unorthodox approach; allowing the man into his home.

As he stares at the man who snaps at something to his side, most likely a bad hallucination. Reginald sighs and does something he knows he'll regret.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

The man goes silent, barely even breathing before shaking his head.

Well, Reginald can say without a doubt this may be one of the stupidest decisions he's ever made but he foolishly extended his hand toward the man, who looked at it in what seemed like disbelief (understandably) before taking it. "My name is Klaus," he said, wiping a thin line of Alcohol off his lips.


End file.
